Difference between revisions of "The Story of Remnant II: SPART205"

Revision as of 01:19, 5 October 2020

Chapter 1.0

OBJECTIVES: Secure weapons, Meet with SCT216
SIDE OBJECTIVE: Establish means of travel

"This is as far as I can take you, kid. We can't hold any more, I'm sorry." The driver of the truck told me. I woke up from my nap.

"Thanks old man." I told the driver.

"I'm thirty." The driver responded.

I ignored him and got off the truck, continuing the rest of my journey by foot. The sun was blazing, but my endoskeleton conditioning systems kicked in, providing my body with a gentle spritz of cool air. I wasn't allowed to bring in weapons from my time here, meaning whatever weapons I have in my arsenal, are the ones I obtain in this timeline.

You heard correctly, I'm not from this time.

I belong to the human resistance organization ASCENSION. Class SPARTAN, designation, 205. I am a soldier to the Human Resistance Effort, or HRE, against the alien civilization who had invaded my world, the Iron Council. Their technology, far beyond ours, had managed to travel back in time, and eliminated many of us. Despite that, we kept fighting. Because that's in our nature. Because we are human. Even if we are part machine, grafted from the ASCENSION soldier operation, we had our humanity.

My current objective was to rendezvous with fellow ASCENSION member, William Lockhart, SCT216. If all went according to plan, he would have rescued the college research team who would one day develop the technology that enabled us to battle the Iron Council to a stalemate: cybernetics. At least, until they developed the technology to travel back in time. Rather than build our own tech, we stole theirs. A squad was sent back in time, including me. The squad was comprised of three members: SCT216 (Will), SPART205 (Me), and SENTL802 (Francine).

Dirty huh? Well, in the end of the day, you can't fight a war without getting your hands dirty. No matter how high up the chain you are. That's just how it is. Will was tasked to find the college kids, while Francine was tasked to locate the reactor core. You might be wondering, why did you get a SENTINEL tank class to do the locating, and the SCOUT class to do the protecting? Well, as it turns out, Will is a lot of a better fighter than Francine, and Francine is the best tracker/stealth fighter I had ever seen. Combined with her buff, tanky build, she was the ultimate supertank.

As for me, I was tasked to find Will, and eventually assist him, and lead the two to the reactor core, where we would send the team into another parallel timeline, for which they can continue to develop their technology that would eventually create us, before the Iron Council's stupid alien sentries get them.

I entered a bar on the side, walking through. There were a bunch of big burly guys, standing at 6 4, 6 5. I probably looked like a stick to them, being only 5 8. But I couldn't care less. I could kill them all if I really wanted to. Considering my cybernetic implants, my bench, deadlift, and squat maxes were orders of magnitudes greater than theirs. My reflexes and technique, implanted into my combat protocol, honed and refined. All I needed was a gun, and I'd be unstoppable.

And that's what I needed, along with a drink.

"ID please." The bartender frowned at me. She probably was my face and thought I was too young and underaged. I took out my ID, fake, obviously, and handed it to her. The woman took my order, as I sat in the bar alone.

At least, for a moment. Because a couple of racists immediately went up to me.

"Say kid, got any cash on you?"

"No, just credit. Why?" I responded, nonchalantly, continuing my drink.

"You probably have a lot, considering you're probably a doctor. Or a lawyer. Daddy's money from your corrupt government? Eh? What y'all think?!" The racist turned to his goons, who all laughed.

I forgot that racism was still a thing back then. Here, you were valued for just simply being a human. But I guess the irony was that things were a lot simpler in the future, than they are now. It takes war, bloodshed, trauma, for mankind to realize how precious their comrades are.

Humans truly are a pathetic species.

I turned around. "I don't have a lot of money. So F off."

The burly dude raised his eyebrows. "Jackie Chan here wants a fight? What are you gonna do? One inch punch me?"

The racist slammed his fist on the table, knocking the glass over. My drink spilled all over. Everybody in the bar was looking at us, but not saying anything. Some began to pull out their phones, to post on Insta. This fool wanted a fight, completely oblivious to the fact that he was essentially asking for a death contract.

The guy continued. "Try something, Jackie Chan. I'll f*** you up. Bust your fragile little pretty boy face up."

I got to my feet, and faced the biker. "You don't want this fight. But I don't mind, I can take your stuff." I pointed at the biker's AK and Desert Eagle.

The guy's eyes narrowed, and shoved me, to no effect. I was as tough as a steel wall. The shove bounced off harmlessly.

I had enough fun, I needed to get some supplies. I just so happened to have run into this bumbling idiot, who had just so happened to be the things I needed. Clothes and guns.

I grabbed the guy's face and slammed his skull against the side of the table, cracking and splintering it. His goons backed off. Blood leaked to the floor.

"It was fun" I said, stripping the guy's leather jacket, and putting it on. It was a little big for me. Dammit. I threw the jacket on the ground. Whatever, the guns were still useful. I took both his AK and his Desert Eagle, then fired the Desert Eagle into the air, causing everybody to scatter.

The goons all drew their guns and aimed at me.

I smiled, and held the AK in my right, the Desert Eagle in my left, imbuing the guns with Nano-Power. STARBOARD loading up in my HUD vision, several reticles having already focused on all eight of the attackers.

Chapter 1.1

OBJECTIVES: Eliminate the threat, Meet with SCT216
SIDE OBJECTIVE: Establish means of travel

The goons began firing, but I had already slipped away, strafing along the side, the AK peppering the bikers with energy, my Desert Eagle picking off the further targets with flawless accuracy. I always had incredible marksmanship, maybe I was just too talented.

Within the seconds, all the enemies were dispatched.

I walked to one of the goons, and dug out their wallet as well as their keys, ripping away a wad of cash, and threw it at the bartender.

"Keep the tip."

I left the bar.

"ASTRO, locate corresponding vehicle to these keys."

"Motorcycle located."

I went up to the bike, and slotted it in, revving the engine. My HUD sent a marker to the rendezvous, estimating a very long ETA. It didn't matter, as long as this bike didn't run on gas. I held out my forearm, which contained several angled indents. I pressed down, and the compartment expanded, revealing a container, like a magazine. These were typically used for weapon augmentation, but could be used on other forms of technology.

I placed the clip next to the motorcycle, as it began to rumble, expanding into a massive network of components, merging with the bike. Within seconds, my bike was fully upgraded, similar to the ones we used in ASCENSION. The engine revved with the nuclear reactor core that kept me alive, several glass windows encasing the outside, STARBOARD interacting with these windows and transferring the HUD interface onto the window.

The back shifted, click clacked, as the exhaust transformed into a slit, humming with cyan energy from my core, ready for explosive travel.

I revved the handles to the ASCENSION upgraded bike, the sounds of the engines powering up with the new power source, and blasted forward, the exhaust leaving behind a trail of cyan light as I zoomed to the marker indicated on STARBOARD.

The college team that 216 was extracting were a group of engineering undergraduates, science undergraduates, and pre-medical students. There were seven of them in total. They were always a well performing team, completing projects efficiently. Easily. Like a well oiled machine. Because there was so much synergy with the people there.

How do I know this?

Because out of those undergraduates, was one boy. One boy who would eventually grow up to see the conception of cybernetics, to have the very technology he had worked with his team grafted onto his skeleton.

That boy was me.

From the past.

Chapter 1.2

OBJECTIVES: Meet with SCT216
SIDE OBJECTIVE: Explain my life to you brainlets.

I continued driving on the roadway, when suddenly, STARBOARD detected nearby civilians. I couldn't let them see this technology.

"ASTRO, disguise."

ASTRO converted my motorcycle into the conventional shape and size akin to technology of this era. I tapped on a module on my neck, an implant, and the module around my collarbone expanded into a helmet. The STARBOARD interface migrated to my helmet, providing me with a map, graphs of my internals, graphs of the motorcycle's internals, and several diagnostic parameters along the side.

You probably have a lot of questions. I don't blame you. I kind of just threw a bunch of information at you hoping you would digest it all. I wasn't expected you to. Because my life has been... complicated. To say the least.

I was a human. I started off as one, anyway. When I worked with my team, we were tasked to develop a biomechanics project to aid in allowing disabled or weakened people to do more labor intensive tasks. The project also aimed to a prosthetics market. However, as most projects evolved, so did ours, and eventually at some point, we developed a powerful basis, groundbreaking I guess, for efficient cybernetics integration. More advanced researchers took over from there, and what started with a mere concept and prototype, expanded into a full blown tier of new patents and designs.

You might be thinking I'm old as hell. Because I was one of the undergrads who worked on this thing. But let me continue, because what I'm going to tell you now is... going to mess with your head a bit.

At some point, when we were expected to demo our concept, I was late to the presentation. Rushing to the building, I encountered something strange. Like the dumbass I was, I approached it, and it turned out that this object... this singularity, was a portal. I had no idea what it was at the time, and I still don't. I don't know why it was there. But I walked up to it to see, yes you can call me an idiot for doing so, but I was curious. But the moment my hand approached it, everything, and I mean everything around me. Elongated. I watched as my life flashed before my very eyes. Growing old, my hands shriveling up... but then unshrivelling. Just as fast as I watched myself age, did my body de-age, as I emerged through the portal in a world that was not my time.

I was basically thrust forward in time, to the future. Yeah. It sounds crazy, I know.

I was taken in by a bunch of survivors, and it turned out in the future, mankind was at war with an alien race known as the Iron Council. Aliens who utilized a mix of both extremely advanced technology, and I guess I shouldn't say this, but supernatural technology. It's hard to explain, I guess it probably takes seeing one face to face to understand. I spent years in HRE and later became a soldier to ASCENSION.

Coming back in time, to see my past self, is all kinds of trippy. But the good news is I've lived my life in the past before. Meaning I'm used to the technology here. Can't say the same for 216 and 802, who probably don't even know how to operate a phone.

Chapter 1.3

OBJECTIVES: Wait for SCT216
SIDE OBJECTIVE: None

So I arrived early. 216 and the brats were still nowhere to be seen. I parked the motorcycle by the house, and pulled out the magazine, reintegrating it back in my forearm. The motorcycle's tech disappeared, returning back to my forearm.

The house was run down, with no facilities. But I was sure once 216 was here, he probably brought a few supplies. I didn't need any, being sustained by my core, but the brats probably needed sustenance.

I went to a nearby window, cleaning it off, when suddenly a migraine hit my brain.

I grumbled and stumbled back, clutching my temple. During the procedure, the doctor had told me that I would suffer occasional migraines, although he wasn't entirely sure why. As almost all soldiers he had operated on never had this problem. He guessed I was probably just "wired differently".

I sat on the ground, and held out my hand, which transformed into a gauntlet, the components within my endoskeleton diffusing out of my skin and clacking in place, creating a hologram projector out of the palm. STARBOARD's interface appeared in a warm cyan glow.

I browsed the media, to reacquaint myself in the world that was my current present. News, politics, trending topics. I had forgotten so many of these things, what humans had prioritized before the Iron Council had invaded our atmosphere.

I scrolled down with my free hand. A new election debate, the comments on Twitter popping off. An actor had been accused for acts of racism and misogyny, from tweets he had posted twenty years ago. For people to search them up and have them resurfaced. From the post he had written, it looked like he had lost his job because of this "cancel culture".

If I was told that humanity would be brought to the brink of defeat against the Iron Council, despite our advancements in technology, I would have had a hard time believing it. But seeing the numerous double standards held in today's paradigm of social media, made me question my judgement. While humans are capable of such advancements, they're also capable of being the most degenerate swine imaginable.

It's little times like these where I was happy that I was no longer considered a human in the eyes of the machines.

I spent the day browsing the web when suddenly the ground began to rumble. I quickly turned off my projector, and ran to the counter, picking up my AK and my Desert Eagle. I had initially suspected it would be an earthquake, but this vibration was different. I walked to the window, and my eyes widened.

"No way..."

Because what I saw... was exactly what I had seen from when I was pulled forward in time. The beginning of the end.

A massive spaceship emerged from the clouds, larger than anything I had ever seen, millions of pods coming from it, like locusts. But these were no locusts. Each pod contained a platoon of alien soldiers.

The Iron Council was here. I watched as the pods overtook the skies, several of them circling my house.

Chapter 1.4

OBJECTIVES: Wait for SCT216
SIDE OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE

Regular ass bullets wouldn't do shit to these things. It was time to ascend.

I pulled out two magazines, and slotted them into my guns. My AK transformed, turning into the ASCENSION standard assault rifle, and my Desert Eagle, into the ASCENSION standard assault sidearm. STARBOARD began initializing, with ASTRO, the AI notifying me about the system change.

"Standard protocol readjusted, switch to ASSAULT MODE: Precept Code - SPARTAN"

As a SPARTAN, my weapons focused more on a mix of weaponry. My assault rifle served had a heavy shotgun firing mode, meaning it was capable of both short range and mid range combat. My sidearm also possessed similar configs: short range shotgun Desert Eagle, and long ranged mode.

I exited the house, and aimed my rifle at the pods that were descending down on the house. I had no idea why they found me. They must had figured out we used the time displacement device, and pinpointed my location. I could only hope 216 and 802 weren't overwhelmed. Actually, scratch that. I hope 216 wasn't overwhelmed. The dumbass had to not only worry about himself, but the undergrad team. At least 802 was tough as nails, it took a lot more than a few squads of pods to take her crazy ass down.

I began firing, bolts of cyan energy bullets cutting down a third of the pods that were coming my way. The pods began returning fire, green lances of energy coming down at me. I quickly evaded, strafing and acrobatically dodging, accounting for the shockwaves that those bullets were capable of delivering. All the while, keeping my aiming reticle focused on each pod.

Every bullet fired, hitting its mark. Full efficiency, no shot wasted.

The sky was streaked by cyan and green as we exchanged fire. Eventually, the pods invading my turf were eliminated, shells of destroyed alien matter. I aimed my rifle around, scanning for enemies using the STARBOARD interface. There were still a ton of pods being released from the mothercraft, and from the distance I could hear the sounds of screaming and chaos.

My objective was to stay in the cabin, until SCT216 arrived with the VIP's. But there was something about seeing those pods in the city... it wasn't a precept. In fact, I don't even think it was part of our programming. Because quite frankly, it was always get the job done, no questions asked.

But seeing those pods, something inside me began to override my protocol.

Like a thirst.

A thirst for a fight.

For a war.

Chapter 1.5

OBJECTIVES: Wait for SCT216
SIDE OBJECTIVE: Eliminate the invasion

I climbed onto my motorcycle, swapping out the magazine in my sidearm and inserting it into the bike, transforming it into the SPARTAN cycle. I didn't care about concealing the tech anymore, considering everybody was probably freaking out over the Iron Council. I strapped the sidearm onto my belt, and slung my SPARTAN rifle along my back. Revving up the engines, I zoomed to the direction of the city. Of course, ASTRO began flipping out.

"Warning: Deviation from Objective."

"Forget the objective, set side objective: eliminate the threat."

"Acknowledged."

I smiled. SCT216 was probably in delay anyway. I didn't mind taking a stroll to the city to fight these guys. I'd been dying to see some action since returning back to this timeline.

As my cycle continued its journey, I could make out the outlines of several pods flying in parallel to my trajectory, firing lances of green light at civilians. I took out my rifle in one arm, aiming the crosshairs at the enemies, and began firing. Two of the five pods were sent hurtling into the ground in a green explosion, the remaining three pods turning to me.

I zig-zagged across the city, driving the cycle with one arm, and spraying down Iron Council foot soldiers with the other. Slowly, I was amassing a ton of pods and soldiers on my tail, and stopped by cycle. Turning around. I got off, and took out the magazine, slotting it back into my sidearm.

I dual wielded both weapons and faced the large army of Iron Council invaders, imbuing both guns with Nano-power. My eyes instinctively marking down every single enemy, hundreds upon hundreds of crosshairs immediately lighting up in my STARBOARD interface.

"Let's go." I said, as the army charged.

I brought my foot back, and fired my weapons at the invaders, the bullets turning into blasts from the Nano-power I had imbued the weapons with. Invaders were engulfed with swarms of cyan light as I cut down the entire army in a matter of minutes. A few of the invaders had managed a few shots that blasted my body, cutting it open and revealing the machinery underneath, but it didn't really matter, since my human flesh would just regenerate anyway from the ASCENSION self-repair protocol.

I brought my two guns back, which were smoking with cyan smoke from the barrels. It felt satisfying to be back in action after so long.

"Sir?"

I whipped around, aiming my guns at a young boy. He looked around eight, and he was teary eyed.

"I can't find my daddy." He whimpered.

I looked around. Yeah. No shit. The place was a mess, and with all the Council acolytes slain, hundreds more took their place, swarming the skies, turning it dark. I honestly couldn't care less about this. Yeah, you lost your dad, that's terrible. I never even knew my dad.

Suddenly, I clutched my head in pain.

My father. I was...

Who was my father? Did I have a father?

Why did I ask that question, that's so stupid. I must have a father. And a mother.

THE STEM, THE SEED FOR WHICH NUMEROUS BRANCHES SHALL GROW. A voice boomed in my head.

I doubled over, dropping both my rifle and sidearm, the weapons clattering to the ground as the little kid backed away, whimpering and crying.

"What's... what's going on..." I seethed through my teeth as I fell to one knee. Images of a kid. He looked exactly like me. And when I mean exactly, I mean he looked like a split image. Every single aspect of him looked like me. The only difference?

The magenta eyes.

"Who... what?!" I growled, clawing the air, my vision filled with some kind of static. This had to be a glitch, but I never experienced a glitch like this before. This kid... I felt like I knew him.

"Pa- Paladin..." I muttered, my voice distorted. My voice box was busted too, what was happening? What was I saying?

Suddenly, the visions stopped. I looked up to see a huge axe coming my way.

And everything went dark as I heard the sound of flesh scraping off my endoskeleton, the cracking of metal, bending of servos. Crushing.

Chapter 1.6

????

I stumbled to my feet, my vision network reinitializing. I looked down and realized that I had taken a bad hit. My reflection from scraps of windows that had fallen from the destroyed buildings revealed that the entire left side of my face was scraped open, revealing my metal endoskeleton, and my artificial android eye.

Repairing all this would take a few days.

I leapt out of the way before the being swiped down again with his axe. It was an Iron Council Arca. A gladiator type. The axe was humming with a yellow energy, and its armor glowed, tinted murderously as the lines decorating it also began to glow.

I dodged another swipe of the Arca's axe, grabbing my sidearm, and shooting at the slits under its helmet. The first two bullets hit the Arca dead on, causing it to roar in pain, but the other three were deflected by its hand, creating a shower of cyan sparks.

The Arca swiped once more, as I made a break for it, running up a wall while also attempting to slip the bullets past the Arca's fingers, but they were just too stubby. I kept shooting in hopes the shock of the bullets would do some amount of damage. I wasn't expecting it to fall from a few shots, considering Arca's were kind of like SENTINELs, in that they were heavily armored. Even if I went all out and charged my guns with my Nano-Power, it would take quite a few hits to put it down, and I had already used up my special ability on the little army of acolytes.

I landed on the ground, scooping up my rifle and sprinted away, the Arca yelling after me. I turned a right angle, and strafed, firing bursts of power at the Arca with my rifle in shotgun mode. Circling the giant Arca, avoiding his downwards axe swings and bombarding it with starbursts of my shotgun.

I can't take this guy down with the level of firepower that I have. I needed a rocket launcher, or Nano-Power.

"Dammit." I muttered, dodging again, but this time, I wasn't so lucky, because the air pressure of the Arca's swing caught me off balance. I stumbled, and the axe connected, slamming me in the midsection as I smashed into a concrete building.

Chapter 1.7

OBJECTIVES: Wait for SCT216
SIDE OBJECTIVE: Eliminate the Arca

I pushed a giant rock to the side, as I emerged from the ruins. I had an idea.

The Arca was approaching me, the axe scraping along the floor. I took out my shotgun, and ran forward. The Arca prepared another downward swipe, but I jumped forward, landing on the hilt, and ran up, clinging onto the Arca's face.

The Arca began to swing around wildly, and I took out my shotgun, aiming it at the space in its helmet. I began shooting into the space, as the Arca screamed in pain. I kept shooting, over and over again, until the Arca stopped moving, leaning forward, and falling onto the ground.

"Objective, complete. Loser." I muttered.

I walked off, and realized that the same kid was hiding behind a building.

"Mister?"

You've got to be kidding me.

"Look, kid. Your father is dead. What else do you want me to say?"

The kid tried to touch my leg, which was damaged, the endoskeleton exposed from the ripped part of my cargo pants. I backed off, instinctively, about to aim my Desert Eagle at his face, but stopped.

"Are you... one of the bad men from the sky?"

"No." I replied, walking off to the motorcycle. These wounds and the damages to my components needed at least a week to self-repair.